


novel currencies

by neverwhyonlywho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverwhyonlywho/pseuds/neverwhyonlywho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Tentoo's first Christmas in Pete's World, and he's having some trouble with this whole gift-giving thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	novel currencies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YACCBS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YACCBS/gifts).



> 2013 fic advent calendar promptfill.

If he’s honest, the idea of Christmas as a human puts him into a blind panic.

He has to use _money_? For _presents_?

For nine hundred years his currency has been time and space; he knows it, Rose knows it. How’s he supposed to top that?

He thinks of the trinkets Rose has bought for her mum over the years, but they’re just that—trinkets—and lovers’ gifts are supposed to be a little more significant, he imagines.

He’s in the odd position of loving gadgets but not putting much faith in (or having much interest in) objects; he thinks Rose understands this, judging by how she’s the heiress to Vitex and she still walks to Torchwood for work everyday.

So what to do?

Pleasure cruise? World tour? Tickets for two to climb Mt. Everest?

He swallows his pride and consults Jackie.

"Just ask her what she wants, you plum." She rolls her eyes. "Not many girls ever mind a bouquet of flowers besides."

This sounds reasonable, but he needs a larger sample size for this survey, so he asks Pete. He and Pete get along well—Rose is old enough and capable enough to escape the protective fatherly eye, and young Tony takes most of the Tylers’ attention anyway. But it’s a bit surreal, still, for the Doctor to ask after Rose’s preferences to this man while the only thing he can think is  _I have made your daughter come with my mouth alone._

(He thinks of her hands fisted in his hair, the breathy sounds she makes, and he blushes scarlet, hoping Pete doesn’t notice.)

"Does she like wine?" Pete suggests, oblivious. "Jewelry? Thought about proposing?"

The Doctor blinks. “I’d more expected that to come from Jackie, mate.”

"You two have come a long way for each other," Pete shrugs. "It’s an idea. She might like it, is all. Does seem kind of silly though, after all that, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah," the Doctor agrees.

(There’s a part of him that couldn’t agree more, and a part of him that couldn’t agree less.)

***

He asks the crew at Torchwood but it somehow devolves into a conversation about what kind of equipment the lab needs. Someone suggests a really big gun.

***

Confidentially, he asks Tony, who replies that Rose would like an orange.

***

He asks Rose herself later that night.

"Oh, I don’t know," she smiles, fussing—as she does nightly—over the growing TARDIS coral. "Surprise me?"

"Rose Tyler, you are no help _at all_.”

"Wellll," she concedes, "Maybe not. We need a bunch of things for the flat, don’t we? But I know how you feel about domestics."

"Felt."

He sees her hands falter, just for a moment, but then it’s gone and she’s back to calibrating the TARDIS’ nutrient uptake. She’s suddenly intensely focused. “That right?”

"I’m here, aren’t I?"

The corner of her mouth tugs up, and she glances toward him, but doesn’t quite make eye contact. “No denying that. Just can’t picture you out shopping for refrigerators, is all.”

"We need a new fridge?"

She laughs, then. “No, of course not.”

"Really, Rose, what do you want?"

"It’s not really a Christmas thing," she admits.

His mind flips quickly through the possibilities, stereotyped symbols of other holidays—heart-shaped boxes of chocolate? Wooden shoes? Turkeys?

"You want to raise turkeys?"

She looks at him with such utter confusion that when she bursts out laughing, he can’t help but follow suit. She’s still laughing when she comes over to sit beside him on the sofa, wraps her arms around him and gives him a mirth-filled kiss.

"I do love you," she giggles. " _Turkeys,_ Doctor, _really_?”

"Hush, you." He leans in, and his smile covers hers.

***

"So," he says, a little later. "Be honest, none of this hedging nonsense. What is it you want?"

"This is a nice flat," she says—then hesitates, just a second, eyes glancing down before she forces them back up. "I like it. It’s just—I, ah. I wouldn’t mind doors and carpets and a mortgage, sometimes."

This should scare him.

Really, he should be terrified. This should be the moment he retreats, finding a charismatic and immediate escape route.

Instead, his thoughts are more along the lines of: _Oh. Okay._

“If you get one I’d have to get one too.” He states it like a simple fact, like it’s not a loaded statement at all, but he can see the puzzle pieces fit into place for her, can feel her relax against him.

"Yeah," she nods, and he can tell that she’s trying so, so hard to hold back a smile. "No sense in doing that twice, though. We could share, ‘f you want. Same one?"

"It makes financial sense," he concedes. "Would save commuting costs, heating costs. Shared meal preparation would save money too."

"You’d get to fix all the things that break around the house," she offers.

"I would!" He beams. "That’d be brilliant. And the shagging, Rose, we wouldn’t have to be so quiet if we come home for lunch."

"You seem to be in favor of this idea."

"I am in favor of shagging Rose, yes," he says, quite seriously. "I am also in favor of a happy Rose. _Better still_ , I am _most definitely_ in favor of shagging a happy Rose. Will this help?”

"It’s almost like you’re doing this to get into my knickers," she laughs.

"Not so much trying to get in as trying to stay in their good graces."

She thwaps his shoulder harmlessly. “Don’t need to buy a house to do that.”

He shrugs. “Gonna do it anyway.”

Her answering grin is brilliant—brilliant and beautiful and bright. Not for the first time, he’s actually (somehow, maybe?) thankful for the advice of Jackie Tyler. And always ever thankful for Rose, of course.

"We’ll need a workroom big enough for the baby TARDIS," she murmurs.

"You pick?" he offers, and she takes him by the ears to kiss him for it.

"I think I will," she grins.


End file.
